Sleep Well
by Inkstainedgwyn
Summary: An angst-ridden look at Lavellan trying to pick up the pieces after Solas, after Corypheus. Her friends do what they can, but even that's not always enough. T for a few swear words. Apparently ongoing as a place to dump Solavellan angst.
1. Chapter 1

_Angst and tears, because I hated that your companions aren't able to console you in the end. I know that Cullen, Cole, Cass, and Varric would, especially. There's nothing happy at the end of this, and it's very spoilery, so read at your own risk._

* * *

It took several days to get back to Skyhold, even with the Inquisition honour guard Cullen had sent; he'd wanted to come himself but Josephine looked daggers at him when he'd suggested leaving her to deal with the multitude of military-themed inquiries they received as soon as word got out that Corypheus was vanquished. Adhwen spent most of the time asleep in the carriage; the sheer amount of energy it took to send Corypheus to the fade – or even beyond, as none of them knew what exactly had happened to him – ensured she was out like a light the entire time.

They arrived to fanfares and cheering; not only were all of their people out to welcome the triumphant heroes, but hordes had come from as far away as could be managed in the time it took for Adhwen's group to return. There was even to be a grand banquet that night, arranged in short notice by Josie, with the guests of honour and guests of state in the great hall, with tables and kegs and musicians spread across the keep for everyone else. As in keeping with the Inquisition policies Adhwen had established, all were welcome.

When the carriage stopped and the small elf stepped out she was met by a split second of silence that then erupted into the loudest cheering she'd ever heard. She was unable to deny a smile at this, but even as she did her eyes darted around the edges of the crowd, from the shadows to the corners, to see if Solas was waiting for her. He had disappeared after they'd found the shattered artifact, and she was hopeful that he'd taken the time he needed, now that the threat was over, and that after her return they'd finally be able to talk.

Cassandra, who'd slipped through the crowd to talk to Josie and Leliana, exchanged sober glances with the two as they noted Adhwen's expression. Once they finally got her through the crowd and into the main hall – from which all guests had been excluded for now in preparation for the feast – Leliana cleared her throat.

"There is one thing, Inquisitor. Solas… did not return with you?"

Adhwen blinked, a sick lump settling in her stomach. "No, I assumed he'd meet us here. You know how he is, always going off from time to time." She tried to keep her voice falsely cheerful.

"No one has seen him," Josie said, quietly, as they followed Adhwen to his room, the circular rotunda where the apostate had spent most of his time. It was empty except for the art on the walls, and the pile of books he'd requested stacked neatly across the desk. "His things are gone. Leliana-"

"I have sent inquiries, but he seems to have left no trace," Leliana said, as Cullen stood behind them, in the doorway, watching anxiously and not speaking. "I am sorry, Inquisitor."

They'd known something was wrong for days, ever since the Arbor Wilds, since Adhwen had come down to the war room one morning with her tattoos – her _vallaslin _– mysteriously gone and an overbright expression on her face. They'd had no evidence, however, until now.

Adhwen gave a small cry and dropped to her knees, her whole frame crumpling like a dry leaf set to flame, her false confidence disappearing in seconds to reveal a heartbreak that smote them all. Cullen stepped forward, looking lost; Cassandra was the first to her side, however, dropping to her knees beside her. "My friend…" She held out her arms and Adhwen turned to her, burying her face in the seeker's shoulder, sobbing her heart out.

Her other companions had mysteriously disappeared, sensing that this was not the time; Leliana and Josie also melted away, knowing that Cullen or Cass would find them if the Inquisitor needed them. Adhwen, meanwhile, kept crying, kneeling with Cassandra for a good quarter of an hour. Cassandra asked no questions, merely stroking her friend's hair. Finally, as her sobs quieted, Cass looked up at Cullen and nodded.

"Come," he said, gently. "Let me help you to your room." As he spoke, Cass slowly helped Adhwen stand; when they were on their feet, the elf looked away from Cassandra's shoulder, and her pale face tore his heart.

She shook her head, however. "No, I- I'll be fine," she said, in a voice that clearly spoke 'lie' even as it begged them not to coddle her. She straightened her shoulders.

Cullen put out an arm. "May I at least see you to your room?"

After a moment, she nodded, resting her hand on his arm as Cass let go. "I will see to the others," the seeker said, a hoarse note to her voice as she bit back her anger. "But do not hesitate to call me if you need me." Adhwen gave her a look that could only be described as a ghost smile and nodded; Cullen helped her to her room, leaving at her request although he did not want to leave her alone.

He returned to the war room where Cass was sitting at the table, looking frustrated; Dorian and Varric were there as well. "She said she's going to nap," Cullen said, with a quiet frown. "Are the others-?"

"Ruffles is out checking on the banquet preparations," Varric said. "It'll be the best feast this old ruin has ever seen; you know that's her way of helping. Nightingale is off sending out more spies; Chuckles better hope that if anyone ever finds him, it's not her. Everyone else is here and about, I don't know if they know and Princess would probably prefer it that way."

Dorian just shook his head, looking disgusted. "So he's really gone, then? I knew we couldn't trust anyone with that sort of fashion sense."

Cullen was about to say something when the door opened and Josephine walked in. "Everything is running like clockwork, which is a blessing, I suppose. The only question is whether or not the Inquisitor will make it down, although I would not blame her if she did not…" A heavy sigh, as this was a lot for Josephine to allow, but she loved her friend. "I will make plans in case she is unable to show herself for the guests."

"Yes, Andraste forbid the guests should be offended that the Inquisitor is not here to dance on their attendance," Dorian said, sharply.

"You know what I mean!" Josie said, sounding angry and distressed.

"Calm down," Varric said. "Maker's breath. It's ok, Ruffles, we're all out of sorts. I know what you mean, and if Sparkler here can't realize that-"

Dorian stood up, still looking frustrated. "I know, and I'm sorry, Josephine."

"Can we all just stop fighting for two seconds?" Cassandra stood up. "You're giving me a headache! Go back to your rooms, or wherever have you, and settle down before I throw something."

* * *

Josephine needn't have worried, however. The appointed hour for the banquet arrived and Adhwen appeared in good time, looking gracious and rested even if the lines around her eyes and strain on her shoulders told the truth to those who knew her. She walked amongst the nobility in the fine purple velvet jacket Josie had ordered for the occasion, looking like the Inquisitor everyone wanted her to be; behind her back, however, her friends exchanged glances.

"She looks awful," Varric said. "If I ever get my hands on-"

"Hurting, hollow, a heavy heart, hope is gone. Disbelief. It can't be like this, why does it hurt to breathe, why is he gone, why, what could I have done, what didn't I do? Smiling, I have to keep smiling. I was wrong. Alone, falling, failing, flailing inside, empt-"

"Maker's breath, _stop_!" Varric hissed as Cass put a hand over Cole's mouth. "She deserves better than to have us digging through her thoughts."

Varric shook his head at Cassandra, who let go of Cole; the dwarf then turned back to the young man. "Kid. This is your specialty, can you help her?"

The others, who'd been standing around, looked at him hopefully - even Cass, who'd learned to accept him. Cole frowned, looking lost and frustrated. "I can't… I don't know what to say… He loved her, but she knows that, she knew he would leave, but doesn't know why. Everything hurts her, everything will hurt, the truth is painful, a lie would be worse…" He sounded frustrated, almost frantic, and Varric hurriedly put a hand on his arm.

"Kid, _Kid_, it's ok. Remember what we talked about. Not everything can be fixed with a word or an action, sometimes you can do more for someone just by being there for them." He sighed. "Trust me, there are some things that words just make worse. I speak from experience."

Cole sucked in a breath, the panicked look fading a bit. "But she hurts, and she's always helped me… does it help, just to be here for her?"

"Listen to what you just said. She's always been there for you, right?" Cole nodded. "Then be there for her." The dwarf patted the young man on the back, who just nodded again, twisting his hands. The group dispersed before Adhwen got to them, not wanting her to hear them talking about her, and the rest of the evening passed - if not with accolades, at least with enough aplomb that none of the guests were slighted, and Josie only had to make one or two excuses of "it's been an exhausting week."

The guests had dispersed from the main hall into small groups around campfires and tables with alcohol and refreshments – where they'd likely remain until the wee hours – by the time Adhwen finally allowed herself to slip away, heading for the door that would take her up to her rooms. She started when Cole stepped out of the shadows, but looked relieved when she realized who it was.

"Cole," she said, putting a hand on her chest as she caught her breath. "I'm sorry, you startled me. Is everything all right?"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry. I can't help, but I'm here. Here for you, I mean." He frowned, still looking a bit lost, and she bit her lip, blinking hard.

"Oh, Cole, I know... thank you..." As a tear leaked down her cheek, he reached out hesitantly to give her a hug; she returned it gratefully, not crying but taking comfort in the presence of a friend.

He didn't really know what to do, but he could tell she needed this, and it felt a little like he was helping. Finally, she pulled away. "Thank you, Cole." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I'm going to go sleep now."

He nodded. "I will be here," he said. "For you."

* * *

Several days passed; each day, Adhwen was down in the war room at her usual time, and although the circles beneath her eyes got bigger with each day and she looked paler, she was able to keep up with all of the requests, the missives, all of the decisions that had to be made as Inquisitor. Her friends looked at one another, although none of them knew how to approach the topic; still, Josie kept eyes on her, making as many excuses as she could as to why the Inquisitor had too much to do to attend the countless balls and soirees to which she was invited.

Finally, one afternoon, everyone in the war room was doing their best to focus on the issues at hand when Adhwen leaned over the table, putting one hand down to steady herself. Josie stopped in the middle of the letter she was reading; Cullen's sharp "Inquisitor!" was enough to make Adhwen look up right before she swayed a little and fell backwards, although he leapt forward in time to catch her.

"Get the healer," he said. "Madame Vivienne, or Dorian. I'm taking her up to her room." His voice was harsh with concern, but Adhwen was, for the moment, unconscious.

It wasn't until they were in her room and he'd just laid her on her bed that she blinked awake, sitting up hurriedly. "Cullen, what happened?"

"You fainted," he said, frowning. "Adhwen, talk to me. You're making yourself sick – have you even slept?"

She was looking into his eyes when he said this, and a look of alarm crossed her face as she turned her head. "I can't- I can't sleep. I'm..." Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know this is nothing compared to what you've been through-"

"_No_," he said, his voice straining. She blinked. "Don't think that way. You're in pain, and no one thinks the less of you because of it. But you _must_ sleep!"

"I _can't_." Her voice was anguished. "I can't bear to dream... each time I close my eyes I see the fade, I see Haven, I see... the forests, I see... I see the places we used to walk..." Her voice choked and she put a hand over her mouth as she started to cry. "Oh, Cullen... it hurts..."

He sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder; she buried her face in his shoulder and cried. Finally, she looked up. "I'm sorry, I know I'm falling apart, failing the Inquisition. I need to be stronger, I would sleep if I could, but-"

"I know," he said. "Shhhh. You are _not _failing! None of us are going to judge how long it takes you, or do you not remember what you said to me when I almost lost to the lyrium?" She looked away at this, and he touched her shoulder gently before standing. "I hear footsteps; Cassandra ran to get Vivienne or Dorian. I'll be outside."

She frowned at this, but nodded, knowing that she really wasn't well; he stepped outside to meet Vivienne, with Cassandra behind her. "She hasn't been sleeping, has she?" The mage's voice was crisp even as her eyes showed that she, too, was worried.

He shook his head. "No. She says she can't, because each time she closes her eyes, she dreams-" he looked at Cass, shaking his head. "And we know enough about Solas to know how healthy that is for her right now."

Cassandra merely made a noise of disgust, but Vivienne nodded. "As I suspected." She held up a vial. "Sleep spells can only do so much, but this should help. It's a recipe I'd forgotten I even had – maker knows where I got it, it's an ancient elven recipe, and that's certainly not my specialty. But it was tucked into my grimoire, and the alchemy is sound, so I know it's safe. I'll return once she's resting."

She stepped into Adhwen's room, shutting the door behind her; Cullen leaned back against the wall and exhaled. "She's a wreck, and there's nothing I can do."

"You're doing more than you think," Cass said, dryly. "More than the rest of us, at least." He just shook his head.

Meanwhile, Cole and Varric stood at the bottom of the stairs; Varric raised an eyebrow and beckoned Cole out into the hall.

"Hey, Kid. Where'd you get the recipe?"

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Recipe? Oh, you mean the one Vivienne had. I didn't give it to her. It came from-" He stopped. "Oh."

Varric was watching, and when he said that, he turned away. "Shit. I was afraid of that. If it helps her, then I'm all for it, but... look. Just don't say anything, all right? I get the feeling that this is more of a farewell gift than a "Honey I'm home." Shit, if I could get my hands on..." He shook his head, and Cole frowned.

"You're very angry, Varric."

"Yeah, I know, Kid. I think we all are right about now."

* * *

_All characters belong to BioWare, except for the personality of Adhwen Lavellan_.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok so I lied when I said this was done. I think this will be my sad Solavellan dump spot. Feel free to bring tissues._

* * *

He's been gone for a month when the sickness starts. At first, it's nothing – Leliana isn't feeling on top of the weather either, so Josie has a word with the cook, and they get rid of a few hams and some mutton. That's not the end, though; after the first unpleasant morning, however, Adhwen keeps it hidden. She's grown adept at hiding the pain; this is just one more thing. She doesn't think twice about it, assuming the sleeplessness and long work hours are playing havoc with her system.

It's not until Cole says something offhand to Dorian – neither he nor Vivienne are particularly health-minded, after all, and the Inquisitor has one hell of a Game face – that Dorian stops digging through the library long enough to pull Adhwen aside. "I know you're fine," he says, impatiently, when she argues. "Just let me give you a checkup; I know you haven't been to the healer, and you've got a lot on your shoulders." She grumbles, but acquiesces.

It's a bad moment when he tells her; she doesn't say anything – and neither does he, as he's learned a thing or two about tact since Redcliffe. He can read it, however, on her brow and the lines of her shoulders (he's learned a thing or two about her since Redcliffe, as well). He's also not surprised when all she does is give him a nod, and a thank you, and a brief hug after about ten minutes of silence, heading off to her room. He just wishes she'd talk to him, or anyone else for that matter. Even as she thanks him her face shows none of the agony of that first week – but he has a small, sad suspicion that no one will see that sort of emotion again. Not from her.

Cole is the one who finds his way to her, wherever she is, most often in those next few weeks. She hasn't told anyone, and frequently the only reason she knows he was around is because there's a mug of honeyed tea waiting for her when she gets to her desk, or a flower on the windowsill, the scent especially good for easing nausea. He can't do the things that he once did, but this is different, anyhow. There's nothing he can tell her she doesn't already know. Still, it makes him ridiculously happy when she comes to sit beside him one afternoon, and gives him a long, wordless hug.

Finally, once the sickness has eased, she tells her advisors one soft, warm afternoon. She's long since filed down the sharpest edges of the secret; even if its blunted corners still hurt, she's numb to them by now. Cullen is probably the most shocked. Leliana has been wondering already, and Josephine – dear Josie – has long ago made contingency plans for any and every outcome that could ever happen. They're still speechless, for long enough that Adhwen has time to turn back to the table to look back over the trade routes; finally, Josie breaks the silence.

"When do you wish to announce it?"

"I don't." The words are quiet. "It's nothing to do with the Inquisition, and even if people know – we'll hardly be able to hide it after a few months – it's not as if I'm going out to hunt dragons every day. If empresses and queens can manage it, I can."

Josie and Leliana exchange glances; Cullen has stepped over to the window to look up at the sky, his heart heavy. Josie nods slowly. "I understand, Inquisitor. But might I ask… at least… what you intend to name him?"

She's quiet for a time, looking down at the table; Josie almost regrets asking, but then Adhwen looks up. She speaks a word in elven, too quiet to hear.

Josie raises an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

A faint smile. "His father was Pride," she says. "My son shall be Wisdom."

* * *

_All characters belong to BioWare except the personality of Adhwen Lavellan._


End file.
